


What's a Mother

by JanaRumpandRCJawnn (JanaRumpandRCJawwn)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Character Death, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:46:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanaRumpandRCJawwn/pseuds/JanaRumpandRCJawnn
Summary: Mother's were always a sore subject when it came to them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Fic for Critical Role, and I wanted to work with the ideas I have for their mothers, and well, Modern Au cause why the fuck not?

_1_

Grog didn’t know his mother.

He didn’t know what a mother was for a long time. His father, his uncle and the rest of their gang was the closest he had to family, but they were shit. No one ever spoke about Grog’s mother, and he only she existed because every child came from one.

Mothers were a thing of night stories, something other people had. 

When he was young he wanted to have a mother, not that he understood what would actually change by having someone else bossing him around. Still, he wanted one, for all the good things everyone else seemed to have. It seemed like a big ass deal for everyone.

He never stayed in one school for long enough, but sometimes he would show up for stuff like science fairs or whatever, and he would watch the mothers and he would envy it all. Not because of the mother's themselves, but because those kids families cared enough to show up? To be there. Grog's Family would never be in those sorts of places, it was useless his father would say. Grog couldn't blame him, he knew he wasn't smart like everyone else. But neither was that boy with the stupid ant farm, but that boy had a mom to pet his head and tell him nice things. Grog didn't. 

When things got bad and he ended up in a foster home, he didn’t get a mother either. He got Pike and Willhand and even so everything was just amazing. Pike didn't have a mother, so she didn't mock Grog for it. They were very much alike when it came to that. Wilhand was better than any possible mother anyway, he did all the shit they did but he was there.

He didn’t need a mother if he had a family.

_2_

She remembered her mother, and perhaps that was the worst part of it all. She remembered her mother painting and laughing and kissing her cheek and being there for them. They looked so much alike, Keyleth knew, from the pictures (her memories from her mother slowly drifted from her, each day a bit more). The same red hair, the same eyes, the same smile. 

Her mother had left them on a Wednesday. Keyleth could remember that day vividly. She remembered waking up early as she usually did, walking from her room dressed in her tiger pajamas, and then there was a noise coming from the kitchen. Like someone was crying. She'd frowned and gone towards it, and had seen her father standing over the sink, tears streaming down his face. She'd called him and he'd turned to her, quickly wiping the tears with his hand and forcing a smile. 

_”What are you doing up this early, my little minxie?”_

She'd asked what was wrong, and he'd taken a deep breath. She'd known there was something not quite right. They had sat on their table and her father had explained very softly, his voice barely there, that her mother had something to do, something that was very important for her. And she would be gone for a long while, but she loved Keyleth and she was definitively coming back. 

But she didn’t. 

Keyleth waited for her, and her mother never came back. She tried focusing on other things, studying and learning and her pets. However, at everywhere in her community there seemed to be a memory of her mother. It was too much, and at the same time not enough. She tried clinging to the memories, but before she turned sixteen she could barely remember he mother’s voice. 

Other kids had mothers, Keyleth had photos on her fireplace and a bunch of old knitted things. 

She wanted to go looking for her mother, to look in the woman’s eyes and ask what could be more important than her (she could think of many things but that was her low self-esteem talking) or at least get a body to bury. 

__3_ _

_Johanna Del Rolo was a lady._

Perfectly polite, educated and intellectual. She had given birth to many children, and she seemed to enjoy being a mother. Rich and important like she was she could have become anything - and she had, too degrees on her back and an ability to administrate the family business that caused envy. She was the one that instigated Percy's studies and his findings, the one who would get him instructors, and discuss politics and engineering with him. 

Percy remembered being sick and his mother sitting next to him and reading classics (during one particular time he'd had chicken pox she had read the whole story of Frankenstein) or her serious face as she sipped wine during their family dinners. She looked like she belonged in one of those many classical paintings in their halls. 

It was from her that he took the sense of importance he so desperately would cling to years and years later. His mother had been born noble before she even married his father, she had a name and she had coin. And Johanna valued those things. She taught Percy how people like them would be treated different, how even if he didn't have a penny in his pocket he could make people listen to him and pay him things. 

He remembers seeing her corpse. It was barely a glance as they dragged it along to bury it. 

She didn’t look like a lady then. Her hair was messy and there was blood coming down her chin, her eyes were open and glassy. Her body was thrown about and Percy screamed and trashed around, telling them to stop treating her like that. That she was a Lady. She deserved better than this, they had to respect her. 

Years later he still had nightmares with her body, and he still woke screaming for her. 

_4_

Pike’s Mother was a mystery. 

She had never been there, and it was never clear to her if it was because she died or left or forgot the little girl. Willhand would not comment on it, and Pike didn't press, even if the uncertainty hurt her. 

At least she had Sarenrae. 

She had the calming hymns, the warm presence, the dreams and the teachings. She believed in her goddess and that gave her strength. Mother’s Day was the day she would sit in front of her small home temple and pray, she prayed that her biological mother was fine and happy, she prayed Wilhand remained healthy, she prayed for Grog when he entered her life. Her goddess never replied, but the little tiny girl would always believe. Cause it was more than that. She could see the little details and places where Sarenrae would guide her hand or help her smile 

Sarenrae was the mother she didn’t have, she was the presence when Pike was crying, she was the hymms on the night and the small holy symbol on her necklace, always protecting her from everything. 

Mother’s don’t have to be real figures. 

__5_ _

His mother taught him how to sing. 

It was not something Scanlan told most people, he would joke about it being a natural talent. He never told that his ma used to sing all around the house, disco songs, ballads and jazz, all while swinging her hips and smiling openly at him. Scanlan loved the sound of her voice, even if she wasn’t the best of singers. 

Whenever he sang, to anyone at any times, he remembered her. She would have been proud of him. 

That was also the reason why he adored everything golden and hats - and why he loved chicken - those were all things his mother talked about with pleasure. She always had necklaces and earrings on, she had a bit hat she always wore on the summer, even if it was the tackiest thing ever. And she did the meanest chicken in all their neighborhood. 

When she died and he was left behind, on streets and shelters. All he could think about was that he didn’t need a mother anymore. He was a one man show, he was Scanlan Shorthalt, retired pop singer with four grammys and currently radio host at a local show. His backstory didn’t matter to anyone. 

He was never gonna give everyone the dramatic backstory they were hoping for him. His mother deserved better than that. 

__6_ _

Their Mother was the best person they ever met. A single mother in a shitty ass small town with two kids that looked too much like their father, and still she made the best out of their life. 

The twins remembered her pulling them both on her bed, and telling stories about her young years. She braided their hairs and kissed their cheeks. She also worked two jobs and sometimes cried on the kitchen cause it was too much for her, but she did her best not to let them see. When their father came with his private crusade to take them and give them better education and better chances, she had cried but she did what she believed would be better to them. 

Both Vex and Vax would wait her monthly visits like it was Christmas, the only time they felt like someone actually cared for them. She was young but she was better than any of those rich assholes, than any of those people around them. She actually understood the world as it was, all dirty and imperfect but still real and still full of good things to be done. 

She would never leave them. 

So when they finally got out of the hellhole that was their Father’s place they went straight for her small house, to her life. And all they found was ashes, a funeral and a few people that knew him asking “Didn’t your father tell you?” and it made both of them very angry. 

Angry cause they could never say goodbye to her. Because he had lied to them about her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway, here it is. Hope you liked it.  
> Kudos, comments or anything are always appreciated.  
> Kissus


End file.
